The longtime New York Giant talks losing weight, running marathons, and why playing football is more similar to being in Kinky Boots than you might expect.

Tiki Barber says that as of 15 years ago, his dream appeared to be dead and gone. He had professional obligations to deal with, namely: playing running back for the New York Giants, the team for which he tallied more than 15,000 scrimmage yards over a ten-year career. Last month, however, the three-time Pro Bowler accomplished what once seemed impossible to him: He performed on Broadway.

Barber had dabbled in the arts since retiring in 2006, appearing in what he calls “Off-Off Broadway” shows, but that wasn’t exactly the same as an honest-to-God part in Kinky Boots. Through March 3—Kinky Boots is at the Al Hirschfeld Theatre until April 7—you can see Barber starring in a limited role as Don, the play’s antagonist.

From the moment he hung up the cleats “early,” at only 31 years old, it was evident that his post-NFL career would be different than those of many of his peers. Barber's decision was considered controversial at the time, but were it to occur today, with concerns about CTE and the physical toll of football firmly in the mainstream, no one would bat an eye. And in the decade-plus since, he says, his fitness routine—which now includes running marathons, sticking to a diet, and a steady dose of choreography—has him in better shape at 43 than he ever was as a professional football player.

He admits his ass isn’t what it used to be, but all in all, he can’t complain.

GQ: How would you compare your nerves before your Broadway debut for Kinky Boots to your nerves before an NFL game?Tiki Barber: The difference between acting and playing sports is that on a football field, there’s a God-given ability that just takes over. Just go be an athlete. You’ve trained enough that you don’t even have to think about it. As a performer, you’re constantly thinking. With your helmet and shoulder pads on, you’re kind of a character, but you’re literally a character on stage—and you’re exposed.

But a lot of it is very similar. So much of performing on stage is choreography—the dancing, but also moving the stage around, and moving from place A to place B. On my first day, I was basically given a playbook, like I was back with the Giants. It had all my movements in it, the entire score in it, and all the lines. I was like, “Man, I haven’t had a playbook in 11 years!” Then they gave me a video that was taken from the mezzanine of the entire show, which was like watching tape in football.

On a day-to-day basis, what was required of you as you were getting prepared to play Don?
It was learning the music and where I needed to be, looking in mirrors, doing facial expressions. The training was really intense. It was like training camp, to be honest. You had to push it all in really quickly.

Was there any particular part of it you found to be the most challenging?
The finale. I’m tasked with dancing in unison with a bunch of angels—the drag queens, who are amazing dancers and athletes—while I’m in six-inch, stiletto, thigh-high boots. It was really hard. First, to get the choreography down, and then to learn how to balance on high heels. I now have a much greater respect for my wife and other women who wear heels.

I was rereading a New Yorkerprofile in which you described your old rehab schedule.
Oh God, I hated that.

“Acupuncture on Monday, massage on Tuesday, chiropractic on Wednesday and Thursday, massage again on Friday.” It’s been a little more than a decade—are you still on that sort of workout recovery schedule? If not, how long did it take for you to reach the point you’re at now?
It really happened about five years ago, when C.C. and Amber Sabathia asked me to run a marathon. Before then, I was still 205 pounds, and I played at 215. I was full of muscle still—I was thick. So I started running and lost a few pounds, but I did terribly. Some people would be one and done, but it really challenged me. I’ve run nine marathons since.

Over the last five years, I’ve lost 30 pounds. I had to get big to play football because of the pounding, but it was unnatural for my body, which is why I had so many physical issues. Now I usually get a massage once a week, and then I run, stretch and foam-roll, and do all the self-maintenance things that runners do.

Considering how much rehab and recovery you were doing, do you feel like you’re in better shape now than during your playing days?
Physically, I looked like I was in ridiculous shape when I was playing. I was muscle-bound, ripples everywhere, and it was like, “That dude is the man.” But if you had asked me to run a mile, I’d have been dying. Now I feel more comfortable in my body, even though I’ve lost my ass and my neck. My chest is probably half the size that it was. I feel amazing and I move better, I sleep better. So yeah, I think I’m in better shape now. Running ten miles is nothing.

I feel like a lot of NFL running backs don’t have knees to run on after they retire.
That was part of the reason I got out early, because I started to feel myself slowing down. I started to feel the aches and the tears, and the residual effects of playing football. I left because I wanted to be healthy and play with my kids when I got older.

Do you feel vindicated? I don’t know if that’s the right word, but now it feels commonplace for NFL players to retire early, and they’re mostly lauded for doing so. When you retired, it was a different conversation.
It’s crazy, because it was only 11 years ago. But when I retired, people were still saying, “Do this until you can’t do it anymore. Be a star until you can’t walk.” But I think because of my desire to do other things, it forced me out. It wasn’t because I was scared of CTE—it was that I wanted to physically be able to do other things in my life. That’s why I left the game.

So “vindicated” is the wrong word, because I wasn’t aware of that. It’s not what I was thinking about. I was mostly thinking about other opportunities.

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Are you still on a weightlifting routine, or focusing on running at this point?
When I’m not training for a marathon, I’ll go hang out with my old strength trainer, Joe Carini, who’s a powerlifter. He’s the guy who got me jacked for football. But instead of trying to deadlift 500 pounds, it’s now controlled at about 250 pounds. It’s very managed—really just doing the movements to keep my joints and ligaments strong.

Did you have to adjust any of your workouts while you prepared for Kinky Boots?
I haven’t lifted a lot, I’ve just been running. You never know what’s going to happen in a weight room, so I don’t want to strain a muscle or hurt my shoulder and then not be able to push the props on the stage. It’s just been cardio and yoga. I go to Bikram once or twice a week.

I heard you changed your diet after you retired. What did that entail?
It was hard for me to keep weight on when I was playing, so whatever was available, I was eating. The caloric content and nutritional value didn’t matter. Around four years ago, after I started running marathons, I realized that when I ate meat, my body just felt off. I felt sluggish and didn’t sleep well.

So I stopped eating meat and just was eating fish. My wife and I changed our diets, and it made me feel so much better. I could run longer, and my energy came at the right time. I think I was controlling my glucose levels better, too. And that’s what I still do today.

Do you have any advice for this year’s Super Bowl participants?
It’s the most overwhelming experience you’ll ever have. When we went in 2000, friends I hadn’t talked to in years were calling me. Some to congratulate me, some to ask for tickets. Managing that is the most important thing, because otherwise you stop doing what got you there—focusing on a day-to-day basis on game planning and watching film. You just get overwhelmed by all these touchpoints coming at you like a blizzard. That’s my best advice: Even though it’s impossible to keep it as normal as possible, keep it as normal as possible.